


Bittersweet Dependency

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Freewood - Freeform, M/M, Ryvin, Substance Abuse, Very Minor Character Death, and its only physical, attempted suicide, doctor!gavin, druggie!ryan, geoffin - Freeform, joelay - Freeform, ray is kind of a slut oops, very brief ryan/ray
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan, a sad druggie, was ready to end it all. Alone and defeated, he pulled the trigger, but fate had another decision when he survives his attempt and ends up in the care of a rehabilitation with Doctor Free where he’ll be forced to deal with other ex-druggies trying to get clean, the memories of his past, and Doctor Free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! This is very short because it is only the prologue, but I expect good things from this fic!

Ryan Haywood clumsily unlocked the door to his dirty one-bedroom apartment, grunting as he surveyed the tiny area he’d grown to call home. Nobody else was there, thankfully, and he was glad to see his roommate had taken his prostitute somewhere else for the night, so the couch was free from more rough treatment, though it already looked as if it could collapse into a heap of dust at any moment. He trudged wearily to the stained bathroom, relieving himself before turning his heavy head towards the mirror and physically cringing at what he saw.  
  
Ryan usually made a point of avoiding his reflection because, honestly, it was horrifying. But now… Now he just wanted to take it in. His sapphire eyes, once sparkling with a thirst for knowledge and wit, were dull and almost lifeless, his sandy-blond hair hung down, stringy and thin, and stubble way past its prime made his face scruffy and painful to the touch. He was skinny, much too skinny for it to be natural, and it gave his cheeks this gaunt and hollow look. What was worst, though, was his skin; it was pale, clammy, and looked as thin and breakable as paper. There were remnants of an attractive man though, and he’d certainly been a heart-breaker in his youth, but the reflection just looked pitiful to him.  
  
He was thirty-four and looked like he was verging on his mid-forties.  
  
He’d lost his job only two hours previously. Good old Burnie Burns, possibly the only thing close to resembling a friend he had left, had finally given up on giving him chances, knowing a lost cause when he saw one.  
  
Ryan couldn’t say he was surprised. Who would want a druggie working around all of that expensive equipment anyways? He always said to himself that he would pay Burnie back, somehow, but it wouldn’t happen now. Not anymore. He chuckled, the sound more bitter than humorous, and took a final glance at the man with sunken eyes and a frail figure. It was sickening, he thought to himself, and he walked with heavy feet to that old, disgusting couch, dropping down on it hard, and began rifling through the draw beside him. Further inspection showed that his roommate had definitely stolen his stash, but Ryan wasn’t too concerned; he had more in his pocket. There was no way he wasn’t going to be prepared for this.  
  
He vaguely wondered how old and dirty the spoon on his table was but, really, did he even care at this point? No, he decided, swiping up the utensil as he pulled the rest of the ingredients from his pocket. The steps were ingrained in his mind: sprinkle powder, mix with water, heat with lighter, fill syringe. His hungry eyes darted back and forth as he secured a cloth around his arm with his teeth, tightening it to where it almost hurt.  
  
His arm was spotted with bruises and little red pricks and he searched for a fresh area, eyeing the veins for ones not yet busted. Muscles tensed as he pushed in the head of the needle, pulling back the plunger slightly and grimacing when no blood spilled into the mix. He retried again and relief flooded through him when drops of red swirled around it. Carelessly, he pushed in the plunger, sucking in his breath at the slight pain as he emptied it. He sat back with closed eyes, feeling euphoria spread through him after only minutes, finally receiving a release from his painful life, if only for a brief moment. This strength, this pseudo-courage, is what he had needed to do, what he knew must be done.  
  
One final time, Ryan reached into the drawer, grabbing a small handgun he kept for safety purposes. He squeezed his eyes shut, causing several tears to escape and roll down his cheek, as he pressed the cold barrel against his chest, feeling the hard metal through the thin fabric of his shirt. Cheesily enough, he’d done some research on ways to shoot yourself and he just didn’t think he could tolerate doing it in the head. His entire body, especially his hands, shook violently, but knew it was the right thing to do.   
  
A smile, almost maddening in its bliss, spread across his face as tears leaked out, though he wasn’t exactly sure why he was crying anymore. He could still feel intense sadness behind his haze.  
  
"I’m sorry." He whispered through chapped lips, snorting to himself as he clenched his fingers. His heartbeat was absolutely thumping through his body, echoing in his head, and it was almost pleasant in its intensity.  
  
A final tear slid down his face, and Ryan Haywood pulled the trigger.


	2. It's a Start

                                                                                                        **~29 Years Earlier~**  
  
  
"Ryan sweetie, would you like to help Mommy set the table?" A tall woman with slim figure and long, wavy blonde hair smiled kindly as a young, energetic boy came ambling in, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.  
  
"Yeah, mommy!" He struck a superhero pose, putting on his best masculine face, a facade that only lasted a moment before he was beaming again. The woman giggled lightly and put her hand over her mouth dramatically, popping out her hip like a Southern belle.  
  
"My big, strong boy!" She exclaimed, making Ryan squeal proudly as he rushed to grab a handful of silverware, eager to show his worth.  
  
"Mommy, can I help too?" A smaller boy timidly entered the room, shaggy red curls covering one of his deep brown eyes as he pouted, lip puffed out expertly in the way he knew looked cutest.  
  
"Of course you can, Michael!" Ryan cried out, wrapping an arm protectively around his younger step-brother. The mother noted this and sighed quietly; they were closer than some real families and while it made her happy, she couldn't help but be a bit sad at their circumstances.  
  
"Okay, Michael, but Ryan will help with the plates. You're still too tiny for those." She waggled her finger sternly, but there was a warm smile on her face as Ryan handed the forks he held in his tiny hands over to the three-year-old. She was startled from her thoughts as the phone rang and she twitched slightly before picking it up and holding it to her face.  
  
"Hello, Amy." Ryan could barely hear the deep, throaty voice on the other side say, and his small head cocked to the side, a frown spreading across his features and creasing his smooth face.  
  
"Hello Tom." Amy spoke curtly, voice suddenly weary. She glanced over, seeing Ryan staring at her, and put on a half-hearted smile, placing her hand on the receiver to block out noise. "Ryan, baby, go play with Michael. Mommy will be done in a moment." She said, voice soft and melodic. Ryan didn't budge for several moments, concern in his small eyes, before he finally ran off into the living room, tumbling around with a happy and oblivious Michael on the carpet, still glancing back into the kitchen occasionally.  
  
                                                                                                             **~Now~**  
  
For a while, or maybe no time at all, there was nothing.  
  
Then, as if all at once, Ryan had a body. Not just a hollow body, it had organs and bones and muscles and blood flowing through veins, and it all  _hurt_.  He tried to groan, but couldn't, and he doubted for a moment whether he truly existed at all. Yes, he was fairly certain he did, he supposed.  
  
It was then he noticed he was blind. No, his eyes were only closed. He could see orange through the thin lids, and the thought struck him that it was sunlight pouring through. Okay, this was good; he was making progress.  
  
He might be dead, he thought, but he couldn't remember what could have possibly caused his demise. He was only a child, right? But no... He was much older than that. He frowned, pleased that he was capable of doing so as he felt the muscles work to his mind's will. But something was off with his mouth, he could feel it. With much more effort he opened an eye, one that he immediately closed to blink at the sudden surge of light, and the other joined it in its motions. Something was beeping, and with it the new sound brought all other sounds, including the soft flow of air steadily being blown into his lungs.  
  
Breathing tube. There was a breathing tube down his throat. He gasped, choking around the object, and life kicked into him as he wretched and attempted to squirm, pain shooting through him, and the increased pace of the beeping machine only furthered his panic.  
  
Something quickly moved across his still-blurred vision, sudden fatigue filled him, and the world went dark again.  
  
                                                                                                     **~26 Years Earlier~**  
  
  
"Ryan, where's your daddy?" The five-year-old sat up with a frown on his face, eyes questioning his pseudo-brother.  
  
Ryan pulled Michael close to him, wrapping his arms around his younger brother, as he did quite often.  
  
"Dad's on a trip." Ryan lied, more to himself, stroking back Michael's curls. He had repeated this line several times. He, of course, knew it wasn't true, and he was certain  Michael did too; he was a smart kid, for only five. Ryan envied him, honestly. He had a father that loved him, and now he had Ryan's mother as well, and Ryan wasn't sure he could imagine a better couple to have for parents. Michael's dad only had enough love for one kid though, it seemed, and Ryan carried the burden of being neglected by not one father, but two.  
  
When Tom had first left, Ryan had been devastated. He'd looked up to his father, not quite understanding why he always smelled funny or sometimes talked too loud, and wanted more than to always be by his side, to be just like him.   
  
Now, Ryan was filled with bitter resentment for Tom, and he had stepped up to be the man of the house at the age of eight, holding the weight of his sadness on his shoulders and refusing to accept help from anyone that offered. He'd protect them with his life, Michael and Amy, and nobody could convince him that it wasn't what he  _needed_  to do. Even though he hated Tom, he still had an urge to prove himself as worthy to his distant and uncaring drunk of a father, even if he couldn't understand why. He just thought that maybe, if he showed he was mature and strong, his dad would come back.  
  
"Oh." Michael put his head down, lip puffing out. "When is he coming back?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Where did he go?"  
  
"I just don't know, Michael."  
  
                                                                                                              **~Now~**  
  
"Ow." The small groan escaped Ryan's lips unconsciously as he was drug from his slumber unwillingly. He felt oddly numb, yet a throbbing pain still filled his body, and the combination was off-putting and more than a little tiring.  
  
"R-Ryan? Ryan! Nurse, nurse! He's awake!" A frantic voice struck familiarity in him, but it was much too loud for his sensitive state and he raised a heavy hand to swat it away as if it were tangible, only to find he couldn't move it more than a couple inches.   
  
"Wha...?" Ryan mumbled, voice hoarse and scratchy. Damn, he was so incredibly thirsty. His eyelids fluttered open, carefully, and it took him several moments to adjust. As he did this, another body joined him.  
  
"Good to see you up, Mr. Haywood. We were certain we'd lost you for a while there." A female voice, slightly foreign in its accent, spoke softly to him and his eyes darted to the source. She was Middle-Eastern and plump, and definitely dressed like a doctor.  
  
"Shit. I'm in a hospital." He surveyed what he could of himself, noting the gown, needle in the back of his hand, and the breathing tube now conveniently hooked around his nose. The woman, fairly older than him, nodded, confirming his fear.  
  
"Yes, you are. And you're very lucky to be." Her voice was firm and Ryan groaned. Was he really? Being here defeated the entire purpose of what he'd done.  
  
"How did I survive that?" He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, the motion proving more taxing than it should.  
  
"As I said, you're very lucky. The bullet penetrated the abdominal cavity and tore through quite a few things, but exited cleanly on the other side. You sustained some pretty serious blood loss and we had to do surgery, but you should make a full recovery in about two or three months." Ryan groaned louder this time, showing his annoyance, and the doctor clucked her tongue. "There are some legal matters we will have to handle as well, Mr. Haywood. And I should have you warned that if you do not cooperate, there could be some substantial consequences. I'd also like to add that a good part of the coma came from the almost fatal overdose you subjected yoursel-"  
  
"Wait, did you say coma?" Ryan tried to sit up without thinking, his face reddening in frustration and pain when he couldn't.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Haywood. You've been out for..." She skimmed over her clipboard, the anticipation eating away at Ryan with each millisecond she searched. "Three days." Ryan visibly relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief. "I wouldn't exactly be happy about that. We've kept off any sort of withdrawal with your IV drip, but I imagine when it runs out you're going to be dealing with some pretty nasty symptoms."   
  
Ryan glared at the doctor, mentally cursing her with everything he had, and she met his gaze steadily. "If you're done acting like a child, you have a visitor." She stated plainly and Ryan's scowl was replaced with surprise. He didn't have any family or friends, and he doubted his roommate was going to come see him unless he was trying to bum pain meds off him.  
  
"W-who?" He questioned, trying to sound nonchalant, but his expression gave him away. She softened at that, smiling.  
  
"Well, let me go get him." She turned away, but Ryan make a choking noise.  
  
"Wait! Could I... Could I have a glass of water?" He felt bashful for his behavior and she snorted before confirming his request and leaving.  
  
"Man, I fucked up." He mumbled to himself once he was alone, touching his chest gently and wincing. He was going to be in so much trouble with the law and he didn't even know where to begin to fix it. "I could always just... try again." He reasoned, but the thought brought tears to his eyes that he hastily wiped away as he heard the door creak open.  
  
Whoever he'd been expecting, it wasn't this.  
  
Steely blue eyes met his and with them portrayed regret, fear, and a bit of... fury?  
  
"Geoff?" He croaked, suddenly incredibly aware of how pathetic he must look, and the older man huffed.  
  
"Hey, buddy." His voice was slow and cautious and Ryan sighed.  
  
"It's uh... It's been a while." He murmured, averting his gaze as Geoff walked forward, taking the empty seat by his bed. He could feel Geoff's eyes on him, intense and searching, and he twitched under the pressure of it.  
  
"Yeah. It really has." The silence was deafening, each beep of his machines piercing through it almost dutifully. "You... You should've called."  
  
Ryan clenched his jaw at that, angry tears pricking at his eyes. "Why? To get a fucking voice mail? Or maybe so I could hear 'Sorry, buddy! I can't have my druggie friend holding me back anymore! Have a nice fucking life!'? No fucking thanks." He spat, voice bitter, and the memories seemed to strangle him.  
  
"Listen! I-" He faltered as a nurse entered, carrying a Styrofoam cup full of water, and handed it to Ryan. The man took it gratefully, taking deep, hungry swigs until he'd drained it.  
  
"I'll go get you another." She smiled warmly at him and he hummed his thanks, still gritting his teeth.  
  
"Listen!" Geoff hissed quietly, leaning in as Ryan deliberately looked away. "I don't think it's very fair that I'm being blamed here."  
  
Ryan turned to him with a quiet fury, one that he was certain Geoff had never seen before by the way he immediately jumped back, and snarled. "Oh yeah? How long as it been, Geoff? Eight years? Nine? I wouldn't fucking know! I try not to keep track of the day my best friend abandoned me."  
  
Heavy quiet filled the small room, and Ryan was amazed that an area so white and bright could feel so dark, guilt and anguish blanketing it in thick shadows. For a long while he just stared at the ceiling and he'd almost assumed that Geoff had left when the older man spoke up again.  
  
"Eleven."  
  
"...What?"   
  
"It's been eleven years." Geoff bit his lower lip, looking at his old friend with sad and weary eyes.  
  
"That doesn't really help your case." Ryan snorted, rolling his shoulders as best he could.  
  
"I'm not really trying to present one." Geoff chuckled, and Ryan found himself breaking a smile. "This whole situation... Man, it's just really fucked up. Did you ever think we'd end up like this in high school?"  
  
Ryan groaned, but it ended in a laugh. "Oh God no. We had so many plans. Remember that video gaming company you wanted to start?" He snickered at Geoff's indignant look.  
  
"Hey! That could've worked."  
  
"Are you kidding? All you wanted to do was play video games online and expected to get paid for it. It wasn't plausible from the start." Ryan teased and Geoff rolled his eyes, nodding his surrender.  
  
"Yeah, maybe not. We were crazy kids with dreams though."  
  
"I was gonna be a famous writer. I had so many ideas. I was gonna get crazy rich."  
  
"Yeah, I remember you promising to buy me a boat." Geoff smirked, nudging Ryan fondly. "I'm still holding you to it."  
  
"I.. I don't know if I'll be doing anything, Geoff." Ryan admitted and he blinked away tears. "I, um, I don't really think I'll be living much longer, honestly.  
  
"Hey. Don't say that." Geoff rested a hand on Ryan's shoulder carefully, frowning. "You're going to get better. You're gonna go to rehab, you're gonna get better, and I'm gonna be here when you get out. I'm not giving up this time, okay? I... I never should have in the first place."  
  
"I'm a lost cause, Geoff. My life is over halfway over, I've accomplished nothing, and I'm a fucking jobless addict. There's just nothing for me, y'know?" He scrubbed at his face, disheveling the breathing tube, and Geoff shook his head.  
  
"You kidding me? Most great writers need to have a dark period before they get good. Besides, they're usually older, too. Plus, thirty-four is the twenty-five. I'm thirty-eight and look how great I look." He winked, searching for the smallest of smiles and grinning when he was rewarded with a twitch of Ryan's lips upward.  
  
He shifted slightly, moving closer, and squeezed Ryan's hand once. "Seriously, Ryan. We're gonna beat this. And you're going to have all the support in the world from Griffon and I both. And then you're gonna write a killer fucking book and buy me my damn boat."  
  
"Strangely enough, I feel like you only want me to get better is so you can get a boat." Ryan chuckled and Geoff shrugged jokingly. He could still see the hesitance though, and sighed loudly.  
  
"Do it for Amy."  
  
"Low fucking blow, Geoff." Ryan growled, but it sounded more tired than anything. Geoff waited, silently pleading, and Ryan groaned for what felt like the hundredth time in ten minutes. "...Fine, I'll go. No promises though!" He cut off Geoff's little celebration, but the older man was already satisfied.  
  
"You're a determined guy. I know that you're gonna do great, man. I mean it."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Despite his efforts to keep a stony face, he couldn't help but smile. "Now get out. I want to fucking sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hohoho did i mention this fic is gonna be filled with shitty flashbacks?


	3. Just Try

**~30 Years Earlier~**  
  
"Don't go walkin' away from me, bitch!" Tom slurred, reeking of liquor. Amy was quick to herd Ryan behind her, the scared child's eyes wide with confusion. She backed up slowly, ushering him into his room and closing the door behind him. The little boy curled up on his bed, hugging his stuffed animal to his chest. He petted it, hearing his mother's soothing words through the door, whispered to his father in a tone too rushed to hide her panic.   
  
"S'not okay, Edgar." Ryan pouted to his stuffed toy, cradling it protectively, and he hobbled towards the door. "I'll keep you safe." He carefully lowered the small cow animal into a crude Lego house he'd made specifically for such a purpose, and pressed his tiny ear against the wood. Amy was sobbing now and the sound sent discomfort down his body. Not as much, however, as the loud smack that followed it.   
  
Ryan took a deep breath, his lower lip jutting out as he struggled to open the door, squeaking at what he saw when he finally succeeded. His mom lay sprawl on the floor, a large red print across her face. She whimpered before sitting up to see him standing there, confused yet afraid.  
  
"Go back to bed, sweetie. Mommy's fine." She assured him, but Ryan didn't budge. Tears fell down his chubby cheeks and he toddled over to her, standing between the fallen woman and the angry man towering over the both of them.  
  
"Leave Mommy alone!" He yelled, his squeaky voice wobbling as he wiped at his sapphire eyes.  
  
"Scram, Ryan." Tom growled.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Ryan, baby plea-"  
  
"No, Amy, if he wants to act like a man, let's treat him like one!" Tom stumbled over to Ryan, hitting him hard across the face. Amy screamed as Ryan fell over, crying out despite his best efforts not to.  
  
"Don't you touch my baby!"  
  
"Shut up, bitch! You're next!"  
  
 **~Now~**  
  
Ryan was only in the hospital for a couple days more, but Geoff came by for both of them, staying for hours to chat. They only talked about good things, such as Geoff's promotion, Griffon's rocketing wood-carving business, and the old days. Though he would never admit it aloud, Ryan was immensely grateful for it.  
  
Now, however, he stood in front of the rehabilitation center, 'Austin Recovery', a medium-sized tan building with copper roof. Wide, open land surrounded it, a simple white fence boxing it in. In a way, it reminded him of the farms that littered Texas and he sighed in relief that it didn't match the harsh asylum he'd pictured it would be. He hesitated, grip tightening on his luggage until his knuckles were tinged white, and Geoff nudged him supportively.  
  
With a huff, he stepped through the automatic doors into air conditioning and a small, homey lobby compete with squishy chairs and sofas, a television, and a desk in the far right corner. A blonde woman with glasses resting firmly on the bridge of her nose was talking business into the phone there, her sugary sweet receptionist voice piercing through Ryan's nerves. She waved for them to come in with a smile and they stood, Ryan teetering on the balls of his feet, until the call had finally ended.  
  
"Hello! I'm Kara and welcome to Austin Recovery! How can I help you?" Her demeanor was too cheery for Ryan's taste and the man had a snippy retort biting at the tip of his tongue before Geoff quickly butted in, sensing Ryan's snarky attitude.  
  
"Uh, yes, this is Ryan Haywood. He's here to be admitted for treatment. I'm Geoff." He ticked on as an afterthought and she nodded dutifully before typing things into her computer. Ryan scowled at the use of the word 'treatment', but kept quiet as a young man with incredibly large muscles and cocky face suddenly appeared from a door to his left, smiling friendly enough that Ryan didn't feel the need to enter a defensive position.  
  
"This is Blaine, and he'll be giving you a tour after stopping by your room!" Kara explained and Ryan held back a snort.  
  
"He looks like a walking protein pack." He hissed into Geoff's ear as they followed him, enjoying the way the older man burst into laughter before elbowing him in the arm.  
  
"This will be your room and home for the next six months. I think your roommate is in the recreational room right now." Blaine offered as they entered the bedroom. It was surprisingly... amazing, actually. It was as if he was staying in a rustic hotel and he smirked at Geoff's envious look. He threw his bags onto the bed that looked unclaimed, wincing at the pain that shot through his chest, and the facade of normality was broken when Blaine grabbed one and began sifting through it.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing?" Ryan exclaimed, shocked, and Blaine gave him a confused look.  
  
"Routine inspections upon entering the building, sir." He explained, carefully laying the bag aside to examine the case. "We've been made aware of your particular condition, however, and your pain pills have been given to staff that will present them to you at the proper times." He finished his inspection, nodding once, before turning to Ryan apologetically. "I'll, uh, also have to pat you down."  
  
"I feel like a fucking criminal." Ryan grunted, glaring at Geoff's abashed shrug as muscular hands made quick work of jostling his clothes, finding nothing.  
  
"At least you're clean." Blaine offered before pausing. "Well, as in you don't have anything on you." That earned him another glare and he muttered a quick 'sorry' before continuing the tour.  
  
"So this is the cafeteria. All patients eat together unless you're in solitary confinement, but you'll probably be off in a special detoxing room for the first week." Ryan chose to ignore the last part, observing the large cafe-like area with round tables that seated between four and six people. Blaine next led them to the outdoor swimming pool, basketball and tennis courts, a lounging room with books and comfortable seating, and a recreational room complete with games, tvs, and a Foosball table as well as ping-pong and what looked like an amateur telescope for stargazing.  
  
"I am so fucking jealous." Geoff slipped out as he stared longingly at the flat screen, and Ryan snorted at him. They'd seen patients as they toured and he worked to purposefully avoid seeing their sunken faces, preserving the illusion Geoff was dragging him in with his enthusiasm.  
  
"Now that you've seen the great features, I should probably show you the more essential areas." Blaine interrupted and Ryan should have known that the preamble had been to butter him up and trick him into comfort. He was right as he saw the group meeting rooms, medical facilities, solitary rooms, and therapists' offices. That's what he'd been waiting for, the reality that didn't make this a vacation, but a prison.  
  
"Because you're on, uh, Suicide Watch, you'll also be having private meetings with your therapist and sharp objects such as shaving razors will be collected from you when not being used."  
  
Ryan's mouth dropped open in his shocked anger, and he spluttered over his words. "Fuckin-I'm on suicide watch?!" He gaped, though he wasn't sure why he was so surprised.  
  
"Mr. Haywood, you tried to commit suicide. What else would we put you on?" Blaine looked genuinely confused and Ryan would have felt bad for the kid if he wasn't so enraged as he watched him struggle to find a way to diffuse the situation. "Uh, I think Doctor Free is actually in right now, if you'd like to meet him!" He squeaked hastily, turning to knock on the nearest wooden door with the doctor's name emblazoned on it.  
  
"Yeah, I would really love to fucking me-" He cut off as the door opened, revealing a thin man that looked much too young to be a doctor with his crazy golden-brown hair and sun-kissed skin.   
  
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" The doctor offered respectfully and a pleasant British accent, smooth and melodic, took Ryan completely off-guard, almost as much as the strikingly green eyes blinking owlishly at him.  
  
"I thought you'd like to meet your new patient. This is Ryan Haywood." Blaine introduced, breathing a sigh of relief, and Ryan licked his lower lips.  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Doctor Free." He managed to get out without his voice wavering, miraculously, and clasped the doctor's hand in a shake when it was offered, almost gasping at the electric shock he felt at the contact. If Dr. Free felt it, he didn't react, smiling softly back at him.  
  
"Please, call me Gavin. I look forward to seeing you when you've detoxed." He said it good-naturedly, but the word made Ryan want to scream and flee for his life. He only grinned though, nodding his head slightly to acknowledge he'd heard him. The doctor, Gavin, had then turned to greet Geoff happily and Ryan noted the way his lips twitched when he smiled.  
  
"Detox, huh?" Geoff asked when they were back in his room, alone, and Ryan swallowed hard.   
  
"Yeah." He rasped, gaze trained on the tan carpet as his fingers dug into the comforter he sat upon.  
  
"At least when you get out you have a fucking resort waiting around you." Geoff supplied and Ryan chuckled weakly, the sound pathetic even in his own ears. He felt the bed dip beside him and Geoff rested a hand on his shoulder. "Look, buddy, I'm proud of you. This is the first step and you made it the day without trying to sneak in anything and that's a feat in its own." He patted Ryan's back once before standing and stretching his limbs.  
  
"Thanks, Geoff."  
  
"Listen, though. I have to get back to the wife. You gonna be okay here?" They'd been told that Ryan would be moved to his own private detox room once curfew hit, and Geoff could see the apprehension in Ryan's taut muscles.  
  
"Yeah." Ryan's voice cracked on the word and he cleared his throat before continuing. "I'll be fine."  
  
"...Okay." Geoff nodded, pausing at the doorway. "I'll be back to see you soon!" He reminded and the thought comforted Ryan.  
  
"Take care of yourself."  
  
 **~18 Years Earlier~**  
  
"C'mon, try it." The teen coaxed, voice enticing and familiar, and Ryan chewed on his lower lip.  
  
"Drugs aren't really my thing." He responded, words pierced with a yawn; there were dark circles under his eyes and they'd been there for several years, a good nights rest lost to him long before he could remember what it felt like. "Too risky."  
  
"You're a total mess, dude. It'll make you feel better. Hell, at the very least it'll put you the fuck to sleep." Sleep. The word caught Ryan's attention and he locked eyes with his friend, Brandon, blinking slowly. "Seriously, take a couple off me for free. You need the rest."  
  
The orange pills rested so small and innocent in the other's palm and Ryan had to admit his resolve was withering. "I dunno... It'll really help me sleep?" Brandon's dark eyes glinted and he knew he had Ryan hooked before even the other boy did, practically purring his approval.  
  
"Of course. I use 'em all the time and they work wonders. Trust me, man." Ryan shifted uncomfortably before snatching up the little pills, rolling them between his fingers experimentally.  
  
"What did you say these were called again?"  
  
"Flexeril. It's a muscle relaxer." Brandon recited from memory and Ryan eyed him suspiciously. "Relax, two won't hurt you. They'll just make you drowsy as fuck." It sounded appealing, Ryan had to admit, and he finally broke.  
  
"Fine... But just this time, you hear me? I just want to get some sleep before the big test tomorrow." He glared determinedly at the other and Brandon held his hands up in a sign of surrender.  
  
"Sure, dude. Just this one time."

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment! I'm going to continue this story, but comments give me motivation!!


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